If You Love It
by CrimsonEpiphany
Summary: R for violence, some language and suggested rape. Will's marriage is not what it promised to be, he goes to seek the one who fell out of his life along with his happiness- But Jack is not how he left him. [JackWill - no like no read]
1. Default Chapter

Why Hello there ^^  
  
Before we begin this trifle of a story I would very much like to make aware those of you who do not find male couples and entertaining read that this is, indeed a slash piece of fiction. However, there are no graphical scenes to offend you.  
  
I own none of the characters used in this piece of writing.  
  
I have thought a lot on the manner in which Captain Jack Sparrow would conduct himself in situations such as the ones I have prepared for him. As he is quite a comical character, I think we may agree, romance on his part may not be completely to his character. I as a loyal fan shall attempt to uphold this character as much as possible.  
  
With nothing else to warn you of, I hope you enjoy this story and do not attack me too much for its consequences.  
  
^^ No other A/N'll be written this way! ^^ far too formal!  
  
( If you're reading this for the second time, you'll know that I've compacted it a bit. This is because I myself have stories which are not to the point. And so, my friends, I give you this hope through the storm - Jack now appears in the first chapter..kind of. The next chapter shall kick off the story - not sure if the love thing will come to any conclusion. eyes peeled though ^^)  
  
(To my two first reviewers of this story: Thank you.  
  
kanakuchikan (Sad_Destroyer@hotmail.com)   
  
OMG, that sailors slang is horrible..^^  
  
But the rest of this story is very very fine. ^^ I really like your way of writing, so go on, please?  
  
~kana~  
  
Thank you so much - I changed that horrible error just for you ^^  
  
Angel Tomoe Hotaru  
  
WAI! Wow, first POTC fic I've read, and I love it! Great imagery, reminds me of the writing of some of my favourite authors ^^ I hope you update soon, otherwise I'll have to send lots of emails or AIM messages until you do ^-^  
  
~Hota  
  
Yeay! I feel special now! I hope you enjoy this revised stuff. it's longer! Huzzah! )  
  
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Bits and Pieces: Getting There  
  
**  
  
It wasn't what he had hoped it would be. She was not what he had hoped she would be. The rebellion in his young wife seemed to die as the golden band slid over the fine flesh of her finger and she became spoiled by thoughts of children and the life of any proper married woman. No longer was she the woman who dwelt among pirates, who could adjust to any situation by any means. Now she demanded what every other woman and her family had; a mundane love; smiles kept specifically for parties, to show just how in love they were; dinners with her own class and the unspeakable, deafening control that every woman has over her beloved husband - merely giving a glance of disapproval that could end a night's worth of conversation.  
  
They lived like the sun and moon, always in parallel with one another, drifting quietly side by side until the end of time. Aimless. Settled. But with no contentment at all.  
  
And he would fight with his life to get it.  
  
What was it that he was going to get?  
  
He knew. To get to him was another matter, but to see the man who fell out of his life with only a compliment to his rather ridiculous hat, he would go to any length as long as it would involve a fleet get away to Tortuga.  
  
_____________________  
  
It had taken a month or so to plan the perfect getaway. Had he hated her it may have been easier, walking off into the night after a long brawl, without a care who knew seemed like heaven. However, being the honorable man that he had always prided himself on being, there was the challenge of simply disappearing with no word of farewell and no mark upon the name of Swann, but there in the mind all but paralyzed by desperation was will and the answer.  
  
After long nights walking the port after days of work and dreading his return home William Turner found his salvation..  
  
A small trade boat, almost resembling a floating rust bucket crewed by one man, left just hours before dawn each morning, bringing wine, fine material and interesting objects which, apparently, were "not to be found in any shop or ship".  
  
He had taken things only belonging to him that day, leaving for work at the same time as he had every morning after two hours of sleep, leaving Elizabeth to wonder if she would see him at all that evening. The items chosen consisted of two pouches in which, in each, exactly half of his earned money was divided, and a necklace laced with gems of peacock blues and greens that he had planned to give to his wife for their upcoming second anniversary. He had planned to follow the stout owner of the boat to whichever bar or inn it was that he rested, drank or looked for pleasure in and trade some money and the precious gift for a place of his boat, a venture to Tortuga and his silence.  
  
He followed every simple detail exactly.  
  
The inn selected was particularly mangy of course, found only through a system of dark alleyways and muddy roads, an assault on the senses with garish laughter, dim lighting and putrid smells of sex and rum - not the bitter sweet rum found on the breath of Captain Jack Sparrow, but the drink which set the insides of any hardened man alight and quite possibly resulted in premature blindness.  
  
After tripping over the various bodies on the floor and squinting in the murky light, Will came to the ruddy - faced man who was then draped over a snaggle - toothed whore, laughing hysterically and choking on the stinking liquid he had previously been attempting to swallow. Without waiting for a quiet moment or an invitation to sit down, the black-haired man sat on the edge of the bench opposite, instantly interrupting the man's pursuits.  
  
" I have a proposition for you," he said with a desperate confidence.  
  
" Don't do business with strangers," grunted the irate seaman, observing the intruder through one half lidded eye.  
  
Will paused, taken by surprise by awareness of the slovenly man.  
  
" You would not ask such impertinent questions if you had first listened to what I propose," he scowled, "Peter Finch. I believe you are the owner or the small trade boat, docked in the harbor."  
  
The man looked at him as if there was another head protruding form his under-arm.  
  
"Well then "Peter Finch", if you seen anything you find to yer liking' you'll 'ave to go find the dealer I just sold the lot too.Bah. "Sold" I'd 'ave it called stolen. Filthy-"  
  
" No, I need to know where it is you'll be going to tonight."  
  
" If I was about to tell you that then I just as well might give you all my money." Will sighed impatiently.  
  
"You pass Tortuga." He lowered his voice.  
  
"Might." The young man thrust both the pouch and the necklace toward drunkard, whose eyes focused within a few seconds and significantly widened.  
  
" 'Said you 'ad a proposition Mr. Finch?" He asked, fingering the dimly glittering stones of the necklace.  
  
" Let me aboard your boat," he leaned closer," take me to Tortuga and tell no one where I have gone."  
  
"An' wot?"  
  
"Both the money and the necklace are yours."  
  
The balding specimen eyed him carefully, aware that a lot was being offered by a man obviously running from something, and then he regarded the necklace.  
  
" It's not stolen 'r anything is it? I won't be of any 'elp to a fugitive."  
  
"No," he replied sternly," the object and the money are mine."  
  
A small grunt of laughter escaped the lips of the figure opposite "Mr. Finch".  
  
" 'Little after work out of marriage enjoyment is that it?" Another grunt. "As long as you don' mean to do it on my ship it don' bother me," He extended his hand finally, " Anthony Cobbler, capt'n and crew of the " Blue Marie-Rose "  
  
______________________  
  
... He regretted it. He -really- regretted his choice in travel. And companion.  
  
Cobbler was small, fat and slurred various curses into any and every sentence he could manage to string together. When frustrated or bored, he found relief in throwing random objects at his new first mate bursting out into tears of laughter if the object was particularly large; a piece of fruit; or a particularly large piece of fruit. His drunkenness did not end when there was no rum left; he seemed to possess the ability to be drunk on the sea air itself as well as be just as obnoxious and throw up with it.  
  
But Will enjoyed his sleep - his dreams. No matter what the circumstances, there was always a Pirate, tanned by years of the sun's company, hypnotically swaggering through one marketplace or another grinning the grin of a thousand mischievous children. Jack. His strong, beautiful, and maniacal Jack- loved and dearly missed. The haunting man that both dreams and insanity are made of.  
  
How long had it been? Only Will's shredded hands and sweating forehead could give that tale. However long, it was enough.  
  
" Awf! Hells be praised! " Roared the "captain" waving his hands in the air. He walked over to the pile of unwashed rags where lay an exhausted youth and scuffed his boot over him.  
  
" 'Ere you go Finch, " he kicked him again, bringing Will's body jolting to life," we're here milord. Or what? You wan' a be carried- by unicorns an' elves I'll wager."  
  
Will wore the same scowl, looking at the man towering above him as he had since the day he set foot on the Marie - Rose, that was, until he processed the news he had received. In one fluid movement he was on his feet and gazed upon his destination.  
  
" Dunno if it was worth the all the bother you've caused me for a trinket and a few coins. Faster I've got ye off my boat the faster I fin' out exactly how worth it it was."  
  
" Then dock now."  
  
" A trade ship near an island full of pirates," he hooted," not on your life whelp. Off here, and I'm not stopping either...  
  
-----==  
  
Will blinked, realizing that he had been standing at the window of "The Old Hog" for more than moments - his eyes had been out of focus the entire time, this could be blamed on the sea water that lingered in his eyes for hours, but none the less he was thankful for the warm night that had drip- dried his think shirt. He had no idea why he had lingered on the streets for so long, it was partly out of sheer terror of what he was about to do. Or at least try to do, in the near future.  
  
He brought himself to focus through the dusty window and dank atmosphere until he could make out the faces of the people at the back of the room - none of which were Jack.  
  
Bracing himself against the door, he prepared for the looks and noises he would have to endure, but if he could find his once and future captain then all would be well.  
  
On entering, he noticed how quiet it seemed and stared round the room; there were whores of course but no one seemed interested; old sea dogs mumbled to one another, pressing tankards of run to their lips between noises and the barmaid made no move to flirt with any of the regulars. He sat at the worn wooden bar, searching round in wonder still looking for Jack.  
  
" Will Turner? " questioned a smooth voice.  
  
Next Chapter: Whatever became of Jack Sparrow. Will finds what he was looking for, but not as he left it. 


	2. What was lost

I'd like to send another thank you to a previous reviewer, whose review was deleted along with the first draft,  
  
From: LegalanGreenleaf ()  
  
Please continue. I am lovin' all the slash fics I've found today, lovin' 'em!! I really want to know what had become of Jack, if Will's life went that badly...  
  
^^ No review of mine ever goes unappreciated ^^ You sound like a chika after my own heart. Ta muchly.  
  
Anyway. As promised you'll now find out what the hells going on in this little fic of mine. Without further doodoo . The next chapter.  
  
* Sips tea*.. *must stay away o.o *  
  
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What Was Lost  
  
*******  
  
He turned to find the delicately browned face of Anna-Maria. Rising from his stool - he stood.  
  
" Did you come looking for Jack? " she asked cautiously. He nodded.  
  
" Sorry," he said quickly, seeing that he was acting like a man struck dumb. She looked at him with eyes full of veiled sorrow. " He's not well," she moved her gaze to the floor," he hasn't been for some time."  
  
Something seemed to tear inside of Will and his gut reeled. His nervousness and elation seemed to be memory of a dream he once had. His lips moved as if to say something, which had not been commanded of them but a slight mumble could be heard before those words could be said.  
  
" Won't accept his free bottles; upsets the girls, they miss him something awful and he just sits and sleeps . no man wants 'em now, with their faces tripping them. Usually a big event when "The Great Captain Sparrow" comes around, don't know why he's here now. If it's scurvy he has then he should've stayed on his ship, he wouldn't want to be seen so lifeless." With a contemptuous glance toward Jack's crew member she placed and unordered drink before the man, lifted her drinks tray and busied herself elsewhere.  
  
" It's not scurvy," hissed the woman opposite him angrily," if it was anythin' so simple he wouldn't have stopped sailin'," she looked beyond Will with a sigh, "he's over there Will." she jerked her head and softening her voice told him once again ". he's over there."  
  
With eyes wide, Will followed Anna-Maria's gaze to a small candle-lit alcove where a lithe figure had his boots set of the table, legs crossed and hands buried deep inside his pockets. This man could have been any pirate, was he not crowned with a distinctive captain's hat over his face and a red head wrap supporting small golden medallions covering black matted hair and random dreadlocks.  
  
Will's eyes softened, and the breathe he had not realized he was holding was released. Part of whatever was broken, mended itself when he saw the form of the sleeping Jack Sparrow.  
  
Ignoring the drunken snores of the people around him and the mooning looks of disappointed prostitutes who had noticed his direction, he paced over to the captain's table and seated himself opposite the flickering tones of flesh whose chest gracefully rose and fell.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
It had been a pointless life after the grand adventure nearly two years ago. He had been brought beyond bliss having the Pearl back, and being captain of a loyal crew of ragamuffins, for a while at least. Being hunted, slipping away into the night and back on his ship for a classical escape no longer held the thrill it once did, nothing could compare with the exhilaration of being the savior, the rogue or go-between.  
  
Jack had endured a lot since the time of Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann. He had been pursued, challenged and, at one point, captured. Yet none of it interested him. What was it they could do to him? Hanging seemed like no threat; starving a man who had no interest in food was pointless- he did not value his life anymore.  
  
He had lost so much. He had let it slip away.  
  
He was a faded version of the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow- he wanted to be himself again but he had none of the energy it would take.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
The son of Bill Turner studied the features of the man opposite him as best he could. His eyes were hidden, as was his hair and so much of what he could see was the slightly parted lips, which had uncovered the glint of gold on his teeth, like a cave of treasure not yet plundered. Will shook himself from that particular line of thought but found his eyes drawn down Jack's frame, which was still healthily tanned and beautifully chiseled. It was odd, one of the main things that Will had noticed about Jack on the nights he had watched him sleep, was that one hand was always rested, half tense, on the hilt of his blade, but now both his hands weighed down his pockets and his sword lay abandoned in the corner of the in shot - inviting his own death.  
  
He rubbed his eyes, which were moving in and out of focus due to exhaustion, but something disrupted him. He could feel a conscious presence watching him and looked up.  
  
" Will? " To his surprise, the voice was soft and deep but not pathetic. He had expected a great number of insane mannerisms to burst forth from the Captain, for him to instantly know that he had left Elizabeth and that he loved him, but only one word fell from his lips.  
  
Jack set the chair upright and rested his elbows on the table, eyes wide. It was clear that he had been using the bathing facilities of the inn. Fresh kohl lined his eyes, making them seem sharper and more alert, his calloused hands were clear of dirt and there was little smell of salt water or rum to be detected.  
  
" What the hell are you in Tortuga for? " That was better. But his amazement had already been revealed.  
  
" You could at least be a little happy to see me. " The man chuckled, but it was not his full laugh. He used to laugh with his full body, every inch of his spilling over with joy, though the one at present was sincere, it seemed tired in it's way. Jack composed himself with his infamous grin.  
  
" Of course I am mate. But you did just wake me." He paused for a moment and leaned closer to Will, " Didn't bring the wife did you? It's no place for a lady.. Well, for that kind of lady."  
  
" No." the young man ducked his head, " I left her."  
  
The look he received was not one of shock or pity, but rather like he had been told news that he already heard. Jack shrugged and sat upright as if to stretch.  
  
" Burned out quickly didn't she? "  
  
" She isn't the same. Now I need somewhere to live. Do I still have a place on the Pearl?"  
  
" I would hardly refuse you. Welcome company." He smiled.  
  
By this point, Will's mind had wondered from the conversation to the odd situation of the table. There were three bottles of rum placed further away from Jack for his comfort and in their place was a large jug of water and some orange peels. Jack noticed the direction of his vision and sat back to catch his eye.  
  
" They told me you were ill " He returned the glance.  
  
" It's not that uncommon," he tried to dismiss it.  
  
" The way Anna Maria spoke. It sounds almost deadly." The familiar laugh rang out again.  
  
" I'll bet she didn't tell you the circumstances in which I gained my affliction." He wagered, in the mocking way most pirates turn to when using large words, turning his eye from Will to two approaching figures.  
  
" But that's a tale best left 'til we're back on the Pearl," came a whisper before Mr. Gibbs and Anna-Maria came within an ear's shot.  
  
" The crew is on deck capt'n. Do you want to rest here another night or should be leavin'?"  
  
" Well I wouldn't stay here too long Gibbs, place seems to have lost it's charm," he looked round at all the somber faces, some of which were looking back. He used his hands to balance himself on the table and stand, but he quickly found that he needed the support of Will's shoulder to remain in an upright position. Laughing he held to the youth in hopes that it would be assumed that he was merely drunk again.  
  
Will found the utmost shock in Jack's weakness. It was clear that the man who had the strength the run and to fight a dozen of Commodore's men did not even have the strength to stand. His heart broke all over again even with the comfort of contact when he wrapped his arm around the pirate's waist and helped his from the inn.  
  
" That didn't work then.." Jack muttered glumly to himself.  
  
I'm so tired. Must sleep. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, if you did a review would be more than appreciated.  
  
Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter. That was just lovely ^^ I feel all gooey inside.  
  
Crimson. 


	3. The Air of Jack Sparrow

Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews! Can't believe I got through that last chapter - the voices in my head would not shut up! XP  
  
I'm soooo sorry that this one took so long. I've been really busy and forgetful.. Everything has been going wrong. I hope this chapter is worth it.  
  
Anyway, on to the third chapter! Bon appetite! (Please do not eat the computer)  
  
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The Air of Jack Sparrow  
  
**  
  
A fine powder like rain was drifting through the sky and autumn's chill spiked its way through the air. Will still supported the captain's weight, feeling his hips sway in rhythm with his tired walk, into the side of his own. Jack's heat radiated from his body in a fever, which had been unapparent before, through his shirt his burning hot flesh could be felt; yet he shivered uncontrollably. His assistant turned to comment on his condition, but his thoughts seemed to have been intercepted and Captain Sparrow gave him a knowing look - a warning to keep his silence.  
  
Will wished that he could hold him closer to him and keep him from the cold, and that Jack could surround him with his arms in turn; to tell him he'd survive, but any such movement would simply confuse the situation; it would blurt out his feelings in one single mass without a word, and rejection, at this moment, would be unbearable.  
  
They crossed the sliver of sea to the Black Pearl, which swayed on the churning waves, looking as formidable as ever it did. They climbed the rope ladders as they clung desperately to the side of the ship, the crew already on board waiting to assist their leader over the side. It seemed strange to Will for a crew or pirates to be willing to slow their pursuit or treasure for their captain, usually he would be left somewhere to die or at least taken over by the first mate, but then, who would have the heart to overthrow Jack? . Again. Was it respect? Or was it pity?  
  
Once standing on the ship, leaning heavily on the rail, Jack clapped a hand on Will's shoulder  
  
" Welcome home mate." He smiled before hobbling over to the stairs leading to his room.  
  
The younger man watched him leave, deciding to leave him be he then turned his attention to the sea. He had been staring into the vast ocean before the tiny impressions that the rain left his eyes tired and unfocused and he simply wished to have a sleep uninterrupted by any kind of large fruit. Will turned to find Gibbs and ask where he could go and sleep. The stout man reminded him of the captain on his last voyage, he was sitting on one of the steps near the wheel where Anna-Marie was positioned.  
  
" Problem Turner? " he asked as he felt the figure draw near him.  
  
" I just wondered if there was a place for me to rest. I don't think I've slept properly in a while."  
  
" Ah," the man remarked in short. He got up from the stair and appeared to be in deep thought for several moments before walking purposefully to where the crew's beds lay.  
  
" Looks like we're a crew member up and a bed short." He admitted on returning. " O' course there was the first mate's cabin but Anna- Maria took residence there a while back; partly 'cause she ^is^ the first mate, 'n' partly 'cause she needs her privacy - bein' a woman and all." He snorted slightly, " If having a woman on board is bad luck, I'll wonder what havin' one in second command is. Anyway, I'd think your best bet would be to go see Jack. God knows he's probably got a bunk hidden somewhere."  
  
The taller of the two nodded and reluctantly turned to where the captain had disappeared.  
  
His movement down those darkened stairs was a restrained trot, eager yet almost afraid somehow. He reached the dark door, it had two panels of red glass at the top, which distorted the view of the interior - but it was most definitely Jack's figure which slouched, asleep on the rather large bed. The fact that Will had already noticed the size of the bed and had pictured himself in the empty spot beside the captain disturbed him greatly. In this shock - induced trance he opened the door without knocking, only to be brought back to sense by a perfume which simply whispered "Jack". It was a light odor of sweet rum, oranges and something that he couldn't quite place. It overwhelmed him and made him light headed with thoughts of Jack; something made him desire to smell as such; to be Jack's.  
  
Through the incessant flickering of multiple candles Will's eyes focused on the bed, his mind telling him all the time that Captain Sparrow was asleep - one knee drawn to his chest, hands clasped round it and head bowed and resting on it, the other limb flat - and if he had any decency he would not disturb him.  
  
" Do tell me if there is anything I can do for you, or is this merely a wondering? " There was no hint of scorn or anger in that quilted voice, only a ghost of the sharp humor that was once Jack Sparrow, though there was a new shine to him and his demonic smirk.  
  
" Bed," stumbled Will. Jack's head lifted from his knee and one eyebrow raised and instantly Will stumbled over an explanation" There are no bunks left. Gibbs wondered it there was one.. Hidden?" By this point Jack had eased off the bed and now stood shakily in contemplation.  
  
" We lost any dead weight back in Tortuga," he slurred in a charming way, then, tilting his chin upward, he looked down his nose at the raven-haired man as if the room's lighting did not quite suit him and concluded, " You can have mine. I should be up on deck anyway - can't be letting my lovely first mate take over." He smiled again and, before the young Turner could refuse, made for the door. However, it seemed that a momentary memory lapse had caused him to forget his weakened state and his knees buckled - soon he was leaning on the wall. " I'll sleep in the chair," he gestured.  
  
"No. The chair would be luxury for me." Will noticed the look of sheer confusion on his captain's face. " The boat I- it's a long story that I have no wish to remember."  
  
Jack sat back down, slouching on the bed with no intention of being flat, which would leave him vulnerable or at least feeling small. Will sat on the plush, high-backed chair on the back of which Jack's coat held pride of place - the familiar perfume cocooning him. While staring into an empty space filled with his own thoughts, Bootstraps son recalled a conversation only a few hours ago. Jack had a tale to tell, the story of his invalidity and now there was a burning desire to have it told to him. For some curious reason he wanted to feel the pain that had been felt by the object of his affections - something beautiful in experiencing the echo of the same agony - and he wanted to know its origin.  
  
" Jack? " he questioned in an urgent tone, ".Jack? " he shifter forward to catch the man's eye. But the eye could not be caught - it was closed to the world. With a sigh of exhaustion, comfort and half disappointment he whispered, " Goodnight Jack," and, laying his head upon the scented coat he breathed in that air of Captain Sparrow and found the hidden delicacy of honey's sweet fragrance - the missing ingredient of the perfect pirate.  
  
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Damn! Why am I so mean? ! I meant to write Jack's story in this chapter but it felt too soon. So this was a chapter to let things settle, sometimes I need one of them even if it is terribly short.. Everything has fallen where it wants to lie now and so. I swear that the next chapter will tell you exactly what you want to know. What happened to our beloved Jack?  
  
Please review my freaky little darlings it is ever so much appreciated and the more review juice you feed me the harder I'll try with the next chapter. It has to be decent after this one. :P  
  
All me love  
  
Crimson 


	4. Deadly Contentment

Snank you so very much my freaky darlings. After the first of the new addition (in the line of reviews) bounced into my inbox I started this chapter so, Dream Weaver, Jade Stellar, I would suppose this one is for you ^^.  
  
And Starlit hope? Dude, the man's sick, lay off. :p ( lmao Jack jelly. Nice one.) You'll find out why in a matter of moments.  
  
At the risk of losing reviews I've changed the rating to R 'cause there's gunna be some nasty things, if not in this chapter, then in the next and we can't have the children looking upon ickyness. (So it's bye-bye kiddy reviews =( ) Well, anything to save the young-uns.  
  
Any who, here are the goods!  
  
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Deadly Contentment  
  
***  
  
Will's eyes traced the room in the dawn's glum light, which seemed to hiss in a hushed tone that nothing was right with the world. He could not, for an instant, remember what exactly what was wrong with the earth which would effect the very sun itself, or for that matter where on the earth he was. Then it came to him - he was safe. And as for the other question, its answer lay on the bad opposite him, smothered by thick sheets and only his forehead, on which a film of sweat had formed, was visible. For a moment he laid his head back onto the heavy coat belonging the captain and once again soaked in the entrancing perfume before deciding to leave Jack to his rest. Getting up and heading for the door, he half wished that the invalid would wake and call him back and that he did not have to face the crew, with whom he found himself to be quite uncomfortable.  
  
Once out of the sleeping room there were all kinds of sound and odor slopping sluggishly through the air - it was breakfast, but not as Will knew it. True enough it did not smell as bad as he had imagined but he found that he had become somewhat accustomed to the polite morning conversation, china dished and cotton table cloths. He turned back to return to the sanctuary or Jack's cabin when a noise exploded like canon fire.  
  
"Mr. Turner!" Howled Gibbs through a mouthful of meat, " Where did you sleep lad? I waited up to see if you needed a hand lifting a bunk below deck or something but you didn't show!" He was advancing quickly and any chance of escape slid away.  
  
" There was an armchair in Jack's cabin. Sorry I didn't come back, I fell almost straight to sleep."  
  
" As long as you slept I'd suppose that's fair enough. Comfortable?" Will nodded. He now became aware of the slow movement of the ship beneath him and welcomed the opportunity of a change in conversation, "Is the Pearl damaged?"  
  
"No lad. It's merely empathizing with its captain. There's a strange bond between the two," he observed, "when Jacks on form there's no ship on the ocean that could catch us. But now. I doubt we could outrun a plank of dead wood. We got no purpose anyways so we don't bother too much. Anyhow," he mentally shook himself, " I'd take it that the point in your joining us, is for breakfast." He thrust a wooden bowl as the raven-haired boy.  
  
" I should take some down to Jack." It was the first excuse that came to his mind, and a perfectly plausible one at that.  
  
" Jack don't eat much nowadays. Mostly oranges and water is all.. Could so with some of those though. " He signaled for the younger man to follow and for some reason Will Turner was reminded of a youth being given carrots to feed a stable pony.  
  
He was handed the goods but still felt that there was something left unfinished between himself and the stout man - a question, but it was a mystery as to who had wanted to ask it.  
  
He carried the tray with the fruit, the bottle and his own breakfast awkwardly down the stairs and into the now sunlit room. It appeared different in the light. There was a larger window at the back amongst the smaller ones - it was open completely and there was a bucket beneath it. A table with a lot of bottles made the focal point in the room, letting alone the bed and chair, which seemed to be the only things that he recognized in this new day. Jack was leaning on the table with his head down as if trying to work up the energy to stand. He hadn't noticed Will come it.  
  
" Do you need help?" he asked in earnest.  
  
" Me?" Jack turned his head but not his body," No, can't say I do." He made an effort to stand without aid while his companion laid the tray down on the bed and walked over to him. " See? No problems whatsoever." He let out a triumphant smile. But then staggered, helplessly, comically and found his balance by transferring his entire body weight onto Will.  
  
The younger man was certain that it was not only himself who could feel his heart rate waver and speed. Jack was now regarding him through scowling eyes, which softened in an instant.  
  
" Get my sea legs back soon enough," he said with a slow chuckle. It had occurred to Will that he still held the captain in his arms and hardly heard the words in anything but a whisper. The firm body motionless against his own until Jack flopped his head onto his support's shoulder in defeat. Will's eyes widened.  
  
Was this "it"?  
  
"Aye. S'pose I do need help. To the bed Turner."  
  
Obviously it was not.  
  
" Nothings ever made me feel so old."  
  
" You are not old. You're ill."  
  
Once over to the bed he reluctantly released the man, who was far steadier then last night, from his grasp. Jack positioned himself cross-legged against the headboard, setting the bottle of water on the bedside table and choosing the best of the oranges to start with, his ebony hair whipping over the red bandana and trinkets. Will sat at the opposite end in, near enough, the same position - leaving breakfast still on the tray, observing and wondering whether or not the speak.  
  
"What were you doing in Tortuga? " he asked simply. The sorrow in his eyes must surly have been mistaken for sympathy, either that or the fact that Will almost knew the answer, for Jack now looked alert and almost defiant.  
  
" No Turner. Don't you dare look at me like that. I went there to get rid of the piteous looks the crew kept givin' me. Seems that rumors spread just as fast on sea as on land - same looks, just a different place with more people, most probably for an exaggerated reason too." he sighed, waving a half-peeled orange wildly, " I'm warning you. Take that look off your face - been living with that woman too long."  
  
" Then what is it? The rumor."  
  
Jack composed himself in the fashion of any pirate who was about to tell a war story, but he could not look as grand as usually he did, and it was not wholly because he was an invalid.  
  
" That commodore of yours - Norrington, seems that he couldn't let that whole business rest. The humiliation of losing a pirate bound for the noose, the fact that I was this close to him," he gestured with his thumb and index finger, "must've bent his nose out of shape. Soon as we pulled in to dock on some random island, there were posters scattered about the godforsaken place with my face on them- well a crudely drawn likeness. Thinking nothing of it," he leaned forward, waving his free hand smoothly, "I went into a tavern with a couple of the crew, well some bastard must run over to the force 'cause they were there when we got out, rifles and all. Chased every day we were there, quite enjoyable for a while, caught a couple of times as well - nothing dire you understand, just the local cells, not terribly secure.. With the right leverage, " he grinned. " Anyway, we survived that all right - got the supplies we needed, couldn't pillage and plunder as much as we'd have liked, everything had to keep it quiet. Got back on the ship, sailing quite the thing for a few months, bound for nowhere in particular and when we reached "nowhere in particular" we tied up the Pearl next to this other ship - I say "ship" but really it was more of a boat - full crew take a well deserved kip in the shadows. Now, we'd reckoned that boat was just some fishermen or . something. So we take no notice, well what would you think happened in the night? Blighters start boarding. Bounty hunters! They were bloody proud - like they'd planned it or something. Bloody great lumps of men, armed like they'd robbed the navy. Soldiers are one thing, prissy little things hiding behind guns and usually too polite to stop whatever business you're looking to do, but these bounty hunters get on your ship slit the throats of the crew and take what they need - dead of alive. Obviously I was worth more to the gallows alive, so they strike up a bargain - having nothing to gain from killing the crew and hardly enough room in the cells to accommodate me as it was. They take me - no struggles, nothing - and the crew just sail off one man short and all the better for it. "Fine" say I, looking at their basic ship thinking I'd get back later and have a crew in tact - besides they all but had me by the soft and valuables. Soon as they clapped me in a lot of irons." he picked up another orange, "and ropes, we get on the ship and into the cells, not very hospitable, but there've been worse. After a few days I realize I've not been fed even once, and the water I was given had things growing in it I'd say, the bars weren't of the lifting free variety and there wasn't any escaping it," Jack's voice was softening quickly and his head was hanging in despair. It was as if he had started off telling a story of escape and only now remembered the torture he went through to be free. " Then they decided that I didn't really need to be untouched for them to collect, even that it might look too easy if I wasn't a bit maimed. The days were hell and the nights. the same - Full of glass encrusted whips," his head now flew up as he remembered the instrument, "rapiers, ropes ... hooked swords . branding irons..." The captain's eyes seemed to mist over and his breath hitched in his throat. " Made a game of trying to make me scream." Will was shaking as he tried to hold himself together. It was clear that he wasn't being given any detail as to the horror, but he knew. " Crew came and got me after a couple of months." He concluded shortly with a wavering, manic smile.  
  
They sat in an uncomfortable silence for several moments that lasted a lifetime.  
  
The young Will Turner grappled with his emotion and body, desperate to move forward and wrap his numb arms around Jack, who no longer moved or made any eye contact. He would have, if he had possessed the courage. It always seemed to him that he ^would^, but never did. Spineless in his love. A fool to his logic and fear.  
  
He gathered the tray still full with food, which now churned his stomach, " I'll come back later." With that he left. All Jack could do was watch him leave. and feel like a fool.  
  
The door shut with a satisfying click. Will walked a little way until he was sure he was out of hearing distance, dropped the tray, leaned on the wall and slid down to the floor, pulling his knees up to his chest. He wrapped his arms round his knees - tightening them as he thought of where they belonged. Tears trickled painfully down his features as they twisted in raw despair. He shouldn't have gone. Not like that, not leaving Jack alone after dragging up such a memory.  
  
Throwing back his head against the wall in order to breathe, he found a forlorn looking figure standing above him, her hand thrown out to him. As he placed his hand in hers and stood he noticed how much their emotions reflected.  
  
" He can't have told you the truth. Not all of it. " Will regarded her with uncertain curiosity. " I know what he'll have said. He was captured, but he went without the intention of coming back. He didn't ^try^ to get out." Disbelieving eyes stared back at Anna Maria. " Has the impossible ever stopped Jack Sparrow?!.. When we found him - it wasn't him, it was just a man beaten until he was almost broken. They carved things onto him. "Dead Man" and scores. Damn it Turner, he never told us what they were for - I never want to know - ever."  
  
" He didn't try."  
  
"Jack always lived for the journey or the fight for adventure. After killing Barbossa what else did he have to live for? There was nothing new to excite him. Being content is always deadly." He surrounded her in a comforting embrace until they had both calmed, at that point the parted without another word.  
  
He returned to the cabin with words playing on the tip of his tongue, only to find the man asleep. Will sat on the edge of the bed, watching Jack's emotionless face.  
  
" Jack? "  
  
For the lack of response he put one arm on the other side of the pirate for support and kissed him, as gently as a whisper, on the side of his mouth.  
  
" Goodnight Jack."  
  
He retreated to the armchair, where watched the lithe frame of Captain Sparrow sleep 'til dawns golden light took watch.  
  
(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)  
  
Yeah. .  
  
I dunno, my freaky little darlings, maybe I'll make it all better later. Until then I hope this'll do.  
  
Please review, even if it's to tell me how to make this better.  
  
Tata. 


	5. Nightmares in Vain

Well, this is a freak of a chapter, darlings. Beware the horror!  
  
Poor you Maja! This one's dedicated to you cause you gave me the most uplifting review just when I was feeling pretty bad. colds in Scotland are never fun. Ta monkey! (- I got dubbed the queen of . "Dedicating Stuff to People" Queen, by a friend =P you can tell how articulate she is.)  
  
(*)*(*)*(*)*(*)*(*)*(*)  
  
Nightmares in Vain  
  
@*@*@*@*@  
  
There was one porthole on the ship where he was being held; it was the only light source, which meant that it was almost pitch-black by night or in the times of storm. By this light he could see two tattered youths in the cell opposite, they rarely spoke or shifted at all. The two boys could only be in their teen years; one slightly shorter than Jack with short straw-blonde hair who had a nasty gash over his left eye, which was sealed shut; the other had long chestnut hair, the waves of which reminded him of Bootstrap's offspring, but there, the similarities ended, he had a broad nose, with coarse features and looked out from behind vacant blue eyes framed by scars and bruises the color of wine. Jack never had any interest in asking why they were there, but they seemed interested in him. He would catch them watching him when he woke up, one of them would start as if to speak, but think better of it and draw their eyes away. Their wishes to make contact with him would always vanish when the bounty hunters would come, whether carrying their food, (at least ^they^ were fed) or various "toys", which had an appointment with the flesh of Captain Jack Sparrow.  
  
He knew it was no dream - it was a memory, one that he could not repress or ignore. He knew that it was William Turner's fault that he had woken, in his dream, to find himself once more aboard the Silver Viper, on the first day of his true torture. He could not wake himself, or control what was to happen - twist the past into something more bearable, he would have to live it again, every moment of excruciating agony.  
  
((  
  
He estimated that he had been in his dank, leaking cell for about seventeen days; it was a realistic guess, as he could never tell where the sun was behind the dark, threatening storm clouds, sometimes he could not see at all for the lack of consciousness and time tends to go so slowly when being beaten and starved. Usually the wood of the boat would provide some comfort or some atmosphere that did not seem so grim, but here that wood was soaked through and gave off a smothering air of damp. His body was wracked with pain - his shirt was stuck to the dried blood on his back, but only hung loosely over his chest, he had not the energy to fasten it against the freeze of the sea air. Crimson droplets still slid slowly down him tracing where the whip had been and where glass particles still lingered. He lifted his head slowly, to see whether he should remain unconscious for another few hours, but it was too late to put his head back on his up-drawn knees. Three familiar shapes shifted about the lower deck, mopping or just standing there. One of them noticed his conscious presence and looked up from his work - he smiled, set the mop down and threw the bucket of water- turned-slop over him.  
  
" You're making a sty of our cell Sparrow." His eyes were malicious slits as he referred to the bloodied floor.  
  
" You made a mess of my back. Fair dues, eh? " Jack stood up defiantly. The men were tall and overly muscled from years at sea, dreaming of such a catch as the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, but their "catch" refused to seem as if he were cowering or smaller then them.  
  
"Oh Mr.-"  
  
"Captain."  
  
"Mr. Sparrow," he continued, " we had such intentions to feed you today but if your mouth can spew such words then your belly'll go hungry for some days yet."  
  
" Now, now Klepper. We can't have the captain starving to death can we? There are for more civilized ways of disciplining our little bar or gold." He smiled venomously.  
  
They began unlocking Jack's cell. He didn't put up a fight or beg for mercy, he walked tall, scowling and proud - he still knew how to be Jack Sparrow, but the legend was slipping.  
  
They pulled him into a small room, which, in different circumstances, would have looked quite cozy. A small stove burned in the far corner behind a group of chairs and a small table, but to Jack, the flames licked their metal exterior, hungrily awaiting his skin. The chairs beckoned him as they sat ready to bear witness. It was a matter of moments before he found himself being held down to the chair, his wrists bleeding profusely as the irons and ropes were removed. The one he took to be the captain took the seat opposite and pulled one un-cuffed hand forward and flattened it out on the table, drawing a large iron bar from the fire. Jack's eyes widened.  
  
"Matches that hot tongue of yours wouldn't you say Sparrow?" he laughed mockingly, waiting for a response.  
  
Jack said nothing. He just looked at the skin of the back of his hand for what he knew to be the last time - every mark and freckle amplified then turned sunset red by the light of the brand.  
  
He felt the hands on his shoulders tense to keep him in his place, but he wasn't going anywhere. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of writhing - but it was easier said than done as the hellish heat come closer.  
  
He held fast, arching his back against the pain as the tender flesh scorched and boiled, hissing in resistance.  
  
" Say the word Jack. We'll stop," he snarled, "seems a lot of pain to go through just to be stubborn.hmm?" He pressed down harder, " or do you enjoy the smell of your own cooking flesh. Did you save that hide of yours time and time again just to have it sizzle away? One word Sparrow and it all ends."  
  
Through the nauseating smell and the hiss of the steam as it cooled, all Jack seemed to be able to think about, besides the pain, was how much that man liked to talk. Sound was catching in his throat, he wanted to scream and tear the limbs from ever man in the room. He looked up at his torturer, smiling a wry smile, composing himself completely before he could speak.  
  
" May as well give the worms a cooked meal."  
  
The brand was removed, its glow had vanished somewhere in between moments and the tormented flesh was revealed to the cold air. The bounty hunter still brandished the iron, looking down at his work in disgust.  
  
" For Christ's sake "Captain", not even I can stand the sight of that," he winced in genuine horror, throwing Jack's glove at him, " cover it. And since you don't seem to mind having the heat of hell on you. we'll resolve this little conflict between Klepper and yourself later." He stormed out of the room, enraged at his failed attempt to break the smaller man, leaving the others to chain Jack and lead him back to his cage.  
  
They made their exit without taunting him in some bizarre mark of unspoken respect - there was little to be said anyway. As soon as they were nowhere to be seen, he crumpled to his knees, struggling to take the leather glove from his hand as it now caused it to itch and perspire. He put it in the bucket of dubious looking water then sat, cradling it near his chest. The two youths were gazing at him through the bars of their prison - confused and half terrified. Jack let out a deep, rumbling laugh as he realized how strange his actions would seem out of context. He lifted the injured hand to explain - he was out of words and out of energy. He didn't see their horrified faces, as he then collapsed into restless sleep.  
  
He woke later that night, to the clattering of keys and the sound of voices begging for mercy. The voices, he deduced, belonged to the two boys who had not yet learned that "mercy" was a fantasy on the seas. He turned his head to see the straw-haired holding tight to his comrade's hand, trying to anchor him within the cell. The chestnut waves of the other boy were whipping frantically in front of his face as he heaved against the power of his the charming Mr. Klepper.  
  
"Must we have this little scrap ^every^ time you're wanted? Surely you would show ^some^ thanks for your lives, eh?"  
  
They were fighting a losing battle, and as Captain Sparrow came to realize exactly what they were fighting to prevent he replaced the glove and stood up, hanging his arms limply through the bars.  
  
"That's your game is it?" The taller man turned in shock, as did the children. "Really, I might be able to understand all that strange and remarkably unusual torture you saw fit to take a feared pirate with - but it takes a special breed of scum to fall to this kind of thing."  
  
The jailer smirked as he took the boy's jaw in his hand, "Yes, they were a lot prettier when we got them."  
  
"Bastard."  
  
"That's rich coming from the captain of the Pearl - well, what used to be." he was inspecting their faces with disgust, "Volunteering to replace them? If you're so apposed to it Sparrow, it's easily arranged. You are exceptionally pretty." He grinned, locking the other cell as two more bounty hunters thumped down the stairs. Klepper, with a sharp gesture of his head, signaled for Jack to be taken from his cell. They did so without a word, each taking the crook of one bound arm and lifting him only just high enough that his boots only scuffed the floor. His eyes were cast to the wooden deck, he didn't see the look of thanks and something of admiration with which the boys regarded him, but the last words he heard from them were a low and grateful 'thank you'.  
  
*@*@*@*  
  
Before the dawns light could reach the waves on the still-dark sea, he was returned to that jail carried by one man alone who dumped him unceremoniously on the floor and stalked away. Jack could feel the newly made rapier score on his shoulder, still gushing blood, and the words that came with it mumbled in his ears: 'one for the first time Sparrow. And here's to many more'. He didn't bother moving - only made a vain attempt to make out the shadows of the two he was supposed to have spared from the torture.  
  
It didn't help them - didn't save them.  
  
.They were still slit from ear to ear anyway..  
  
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This was meant to be the short dream = long Jack and Will time chapter. But I DO tend to ramble on a bit.  
  
So, sorry...  
  
I do hope you enjoyed it on some level. Happier times ahead! But I think I'm doing okayish. maybe. on the updating front, so I don't think the next chapter shouldn't be too long coming. And its gunna be eventful!! - -[the happy times I speak of!! Sooner then u thought, eh?]  
  
Don't give up hope my little monkeys!  
  
Viva la revolution!  
  
Crimson. ^^ 


	6. For the Living

Ooook, how long has it been, attempts counting.... fails well its been a very  
long time and you're going to find out why, right now!  
My elder sister stole my disk with all knew chapters and full –yet-to-be-  
posted stories! to put a uni essay on. Fine. I have no troubles with a  
little bit of space being taken up. But when at the library, in Glasgow,  
she printed her masterpiece and proceeded to leave.... WITHOUT MY DISK! Many  
of you shall not care that much as this is a mere trifle of a story but to  
those who might, you have been deprived of 1 Jack/ Irish OC fic  
3 Parodies  
2 Jack/wills  
Lord of the rings fics  
And about 5-7 remaining chapters of this story....  
Okay, she left it. Ever heard of lost and found? She has, I have, she  
supposedly looked and supposedly the place was closing. That was in  
October! This story shall not be the same as such – blame her! I'm not in  
the same frame of mind. But like a manic grin, I'll try to keep face and  
enjoy this fic as if it were the first time I'd written it.  
So here's the latest, I hope it fits.  
  
For the Living  
  
Will woke to the sound or restless shuffling. Wearily opening his eyes  
once again to the day's smoky light, he saw the slender form on Captain  
Jack Sparrow clutching at the fine blankets of his bed, his face distorted  
with pain. After a second his body stopped it's motion but the expression  
on his face spoke volumes; pain, anger, frustration... and something that  
could only be described as heart-breaking sorrow, all crowded and tore at  
his usually gentle expression.  
  
Whatever this horror was, it would simply not leave him of its own accord.  
  
Will scrambled from his chair to Jack's bed, quite unsure of what to do.  
Taking a small rag from the table beside him, the young runaway spilled  
some water onto it and slid it over the Captain's sweat-tortured face.  
  
"Its alright Jack," he uttered in a voice, calm and full of the same sorrow  
he could read on his friend's face, "My God Jack, what have they done to  
you? Why won't you tell me?"  
  
He slid round to take the position of a pillow, allowing the pirate to sit  
up and breathe more clearly. His lips parted slightly, releasing a small,  
trembling sigh.  
  
........................  
  
Two days with the bodies of two dead youths that he had effectively killed  
was all he could see for three days. Like two slaughtered birds in a cage,  
their eyes were dark beads, staring at him accusingly, silently singing and  
screaming their hatred.  
  
'Thank you,'  
  
The only words that he had ever heard them say. He could feel the blood  
slide coldly down his back where they had slit is smooth skin.  
  
Suddenly something cried out to him. 'It's gone. It's a memory.' Something  
in him repeated the children's thanks, perhaps they had known, perhaps they  
had longed for death – Jack had.  
  
He knew he was waking. His realization comforted him, but then, so had  
something else; something warm had enveloped him as a mother would envelop  
a troubled child.  
  
Arms.  
...............................  
  
Jack's eyes flew open.  
  
Will jumped. Lord, what reaction was he about to receive?  
  
"Will," the man acknowledged, emotionless.  
  
"You looked fevered, I-"The youth spouted in an attempt to justify  
himself.  
  
"My thanks Mr. Turner," the pirate replied, turning to face him, "I'd  
reckon I was about to loose my wits, being on the belly side of a ship  
instead of at the wheel does strange things to a Captain's mind." He leaned  
in again, it was in the same manner that he leaned close to tell the  
Commodore that he had been on 'his side', but with Will he lay his head on  
his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as if it were the most  
normal of things to do.  
  
Jack savored every flux, every sign of life that was Will Turner's. He was  
alive and well and he was so because the pirate had helped him, his young  
friend was living proof that Jack Sparrow had the best intentions for  
people when he so chose.  
  
Will felt the soft beard of Captain Sparrow on his partially covered chest.  
The closeness was something that he had dreamt of for all the time that the  
man was not within his reach. He folded his arms round the older man,  
careful and unsure; perhaps there was hope yet.  
  
"Have you every seen dead children Turner?" He questioned as he imitated  
Will's move to a friendly embrace, appreciating the comfort of contact. He  
received no answer from his companion, but smiled into him, knowing that  
the nature of his comment seemed completely random, "Well, thank God for  
the living, eh?"  
  
The young man's heart sank. Jack was only listening to his heartbeat for  
comfort, as he would if Will had been a woman or a cat or pig in such a  
situation, there was little to no chance that he would be accepted for  
pouring his heart out as if it were fresh from the kettle, he was little  
more than 'Jack's reliable friend,' and that title would drive him insane  
if it was his for the rest of his existence.  
  
"It's best you sleep," he said, trying not to sound cold and still holding  
the raven-haired man.  
  
Captain Sparrow made no move to withdraw, but quickly fell asleep where he  
belonged, close to Will's heart.  
  
It was near midday before Will became uncomfortable, he had been sitting  
with his legs partly trapped beneath Jack, and running his fingers through  
the pirate's surprisingly soft hair – so much so that it had now untangled  
– for around four or five hours. Regretfully he relinquished his hold of  
the man and doubled over pillows to take his place as he slid out of the  
room and onto the deck.  
  
The unfamiliar flood of the light from the garish sun almost blinded Will  
Turner as he could only recall seeing it in the morning through a small  
window in Jack's room in the last forty-eight hours. Holding up his hand to  
protect himself from the illumination, he could just about see the lively  
silhouettes scattering here and there across the ship.  
  
"Turner!" the voice of Anna Marie traveled across the noise, "We haven't  
seen your face in day light for a while." She approached him.  
  
"I haven't felt the need."  
  
"How's the Captain?"  
  
"Restless, but asleep." They say down on one of the steps close-by.  
  
"You haven't told him yet have you?"  
  
"Sorry?" The youth was taken aback.  
  
"If you don't say anything now, Will, there may not be another time. The  
Pearl grows more sluggish each day – it's lamenting..."  
  
"And what is it I should tell him? How can I say anything when I have held  
him in my arms and he has thought nothing of it?"  
  
"If you have held him then there is little more to be done. The words are  
yours Turner, no bad can come of them."  
  
"I seem fooli-"  
  
"He lost something after he boarded the Pearl as its rightful captain. He  
was too busy living the life that he had been chasing to regain to notice  
for the first year, it was only when he became content that he began to  
feel whatever emptiness has taken him over - if there is a single chance  
that you can help him to find it the I will not let you live unless you do...  
For both your sakes."  
  
They day passed to dusk and nothing more was said on the matter. Will  
passed the time among the crew and looking out onto the sea that had been  
Jack's first love. But the sea grew cold and bitter, warning the boy away  
from the man that she had entranced, but he took no heed and stole away  
once more, to Jack's room below the deck.  
  
Well, I know there's definitely something wrong with this piece. It seems  
so scattered and short and I know for a fact that the first bit came outta  
nowhere! ARG!  
  
Please tell me in your reviews what I've done wrong and how I can fix it...  
and if you forgive me!!  
  
I hope I get back into my stride and I promise a better next chapter as  
this was a non-event. (That's right! Will SHALL tell him!) That's when it  
shall all kick off! Yes!  
  
Okay Babes! Fare thee well! for now at least.  
  
Crimson. 


	7. Let it Go

Yeah! I made it to this chapter finally! Wow!  
  
I HAVE been doing highers though, so I'm not amazed that I didn't do this earlier.  
  
Not much up to talkie time, so I'll just go onward and upward!  
  
If It Comes Back ....  
  
Shades of dusk pink slithered through the window in Jack's room. The light was dying as it did every night, but it did not seem so to Will. To Will, everything was alive – the scents of oranges and honey, the curious light that enveloped the sleeping pirate... and Jack himself, whose shallow breathing spoke volumes of life the young Blacksmith. Captain Sparrow's hand was curled tightly around the soft pillows that Will had replaced himself with. He could swear that he felt the twitch of the delicate but calloused fingers on his chest. He should not have left, his leg may have been asleep, but contact with Jack was a rarity... or at least it was now.  
  
The soft, comforting wood of the floorboards underfoot made a muted shuffling noise as the new pirate padded over the Captain's bed once more. He knew this trail well, the few steps, the nervousness that came with being so close, with having the bizarre chances he required each and every time he walked this path, but this time was different. The room was hushed with the same electricity that can be felt only with a titanic storm is bound, the same amazement and fear and something of elation that lined such thoughts.  
  
And there he was.  
  
Sitting on the soft blankets that twisted beneath Jack like a dormant vortex, breathing the scent of the man before him and extending one arm to the other side of him to lean upon as he drifted closer to the face that enchanted him and that was now calm. He would not simply bid Jack goodnight, or slink back to his chair.  
  
He could feel Jack's breath on his lips.  
  
If Jack was still fevered, his deliria could be taken advantage of should something go wrong – but no, not even a Sparrow in his swansong would excuse this-  
  
His lips.  
  
No returning, and now, no panic. It was a simple triumph that felt as though there was not a force in the world that could deny him this. His lips sought more satisfaction from the touch. The over whelming feel of soft beard on skin, and velvet lips on silk ones.  
  
Still half in sleep, Jack reacted. His lips opened slightly, welcoming the youth's mouth as if he had been expecting it for some time. Will drew back slightly, the horror of wondering who the pirate supposed he was; some whore in Tortuga, a figment of a fevered imagination or just 'comfort'.  
  
But as his heart crumbled in on itself, he heard his name, soft and weak and sleepy but entirely there. He looked down, only to be met by a steady gaze from his captain – the expression unreadable. In a one still moment, he felt Jack's hand rest on the small of his back and pull him closer. It was pure elation as there lips met for the second time, more forcefully than before. Arms wrapping around each other as it they were solidified illusions that would be taken from this reality at any moment, mouths searching and plundering one another as passion lit the room.  
  
They drew back for a second. Tears and questions lined their eyes. Will hung his head so that it drooped onto the other man's shoulder as said other man pulled him down so that the youth rested fully.  
  
"How long have you known?" Will's voice came slightly muffled by the elder man's shoulder.  
  
"You assume I knew Turner," he replied quite smugly as he wrapped his arm more tightly around his prize, "I only hoped."  
  
They stayed like this until the sun lost interest in their tale, letting everything sink in and fall where it may.  
  
"When?" broke the comfortable silence.  
  
"When what?" Jack asked quizzically  
  
Will looked up at him, repositioning his head to allow the conversation to continue – then realization flashed across his face.  
  
"Is it simply on a whim that you accept how I feel." A familiar, low, rumbling laugh escaped the Captain's lips – it was the laugh that had been missing for nearly a year.  
  
"Ah, 'when'," he repeated, he then became serious as he noticed the grave expression on the blacksmith's face," I doubt that's possible, had it been anyone else, Will, their head would not be so perfectly connected to their body as yours is now," he traced a line up Will's neck with his thumb as he spoke. The young man closed his eyes at the touch.  
  
"Besides, it was on the Dauntless..." he stated in his charming slur. His lips were still slightly parted in waiting for an answer as if ready to defend himself, instead of a drabble of shocked words; Will lay his head in the crook of Captain Sparrow's neck.  
  
Jack leaned up on his elbows, knocking young Turner from his resting spot.  
  
"Oi. What about you? You can't just ask me the awkward questions and not expect me to wonder the same love."  
  
The blacksmith laughed softly," I'm not sure that I know," he heard the pirate growl slightly, "I think I may have loved you from the moment I saw you lying there in the cell in Port Royal, but I wouldn't have known it – I thought I loved Elizabeth and that that was all that should matter to me... But when they were going to hang you and I couldn't get to you, I think I knew then, just as I knew when you fell back into the ocean."  
  
"You always give such vague answers," he countered affectionately. Something had returned to him in nothing more than a few short moments; some spark in his eyes or richness in his voice or an inkling that he would now sleep with his sword close at hand.  
  
They heard shouts from above deck that the winds had picked up.  
  
The seasoned pirate kissed the forehead of the man he thought was lost to him. It was the moon and stars that lit the room now. They could see nothing but for the white light that glanced off of one another, revealing their position. They were fitted together somehow, it was the kind of fit that neither had experienced before, there had never been such comfort in falling asleep so close to another person.  
  
Will's mind was pondering all the moments that they had spent together, and then he came to the last he saw of Jack in Port Royal... 'Nice Hat'.  
  
"Why did you leave me Jack?" the question that had been on his tongue for so long finally passed his lips.  
  
"Why did you let me go?"  
  
"You know why. What else could I have done-"  
  
"I left," the captain interrupted, "because I thought there was little chance that you'd leave Elizabeth for me... Have you ever heard that if you love something you let it go, and it is only yours if it returns?"  
  
"I believe I heard the Commodore remark on it once. But you let it go Jack, you don't run from it."  
  
"But you returned just the same," he smiled, "and therefore, you are mine." Jack squeezed Will ever so slightly.  
  
"I can live with that, Captain, but you do know that you are also mine and mine alone."  
  
"Whatever's fair love," His feral grim appeared in the dark as they both wrapped the blankets around them and fell again, to sleep in the knowledge that nothing that they could dream would be so sweet as the blissful reality that they would wake to.  
  
I know its quite short, there was meant to be more but this rounds it off better. There will be a very short chapter next on what they woke up to or something but I'm debating on whether or not to continue this story into the action and angst stages I had, though I do like them. So cast your votes please and review this little chapter and I shall enjoy it muchly.  
  
This is the first chappy that I have ever written in one sitting. I really tried to give atmosphere but no amount of work from my little typing fingers can make enough magic it seems.  
  
TTFN. Crimson. 


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